Opening New Doors
by FangirlingAcrosstheUniverse
Summary: "She needs a haircut." "I'm assuming that there is a point to this conversation, John." "Sherlock!" (Parent!Lock AU, third in the Hereditary Genius series)


**Story: Opening New Doors (It's kinda based on a quote, I know it's a terrible title.) **

**Series: Hereditary Genius **

**Author: Merciless Past **

**Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Adalane Holmes (OFC), Mrs Hudson (mentioned), Mycroft Holmes, Violet Holmes, Claire (OFC), vaguely implied past Sherlock/OFC. **

**Genre: Family, Friendship, Parent!Lock **

**Rating: T **

**Summary: "She needs a haircut." "I'm assuming that there is a point to this conversation, John." "Sherlock!" Parent!Lock AU **

**Notes: Oh, I am a terrible person aren't I? Making you wait this long. Well it's New Year, and Season 3 comes out tomorrow so a special story this time: it's going to be in two parts! Yay! I will attempt to get the second part up on New Year's day! Think of it as a... winter present for whatever the hell you celebrate this time of year. First half of this chapter is basically just Sherlock and Adalane being a slightly awkward dynamic duo, but there will be dead bodies in the second part! Yippee, the smell of murder in the morning! Sorry, I'm quite excited today. For any new readers, there are two stories that come before this one and it might be an idea to read them to fully understand what is going on in this story. The first one, Left on the Doorstep, is the crucial one which explains the whole situation. The second one isn't really necessary but if you want to read it then it is called Everything Old and New. I actually don't know why I'm going this because, chances are, all my regular readers will have gotten so bored and pissed off with me that they won't be reading anymore. Sorry about the length of this note, but please leave me a review even if it is only to criticize my grammar and insult my characters. Please, we writers are very insecure and need validation. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own BBC Sherlock or any of the characters herein, except possibly Adalane and Claire. **

* * *

"She needs a haircut."

"I'm assuming that there is a point to this conversation, John."

"Sherlock!"

"What? Adalane needs a haircut; why are you telling me?"

"Maybe because you're her dad!"

"Yes, and?"

"Did it occur to you that it's your job to look after her?"

"What do you want me to do? Cut her hair myself?"

"No! God knows what that would turn out like!"

* * *

Sherlock paused outside his daughter's closed door. She had only been in Baker Street for a few days but it had already become an unspoken rule that they always knocked if the door was closed. It was a courtesy that Sherlock hadn't been afforded during his own childhood and if Adalane was anything like him - which she obviously was - then she would want her privacy as much as he had. So Sherlock knocked on her door and waited for her to call out 'come in!' before opening the door.

Adalane was sitting cross legged on her new bed trying to tug a hairbrush through her long, erratic curls.

"John says you need a haircut," he commented softly.

Adalane's face contorted when she hit a knot and she jerked roughly on the brush. "John's a smart man." She winced and tears pooled in her eyes as she hit another particularly stubborn knot.

Sherlock sighed and moved over to her. He sat down on the bed behind her and pulled her to sit between his legs with her back to him. "Give me the brush."

She hesitantly handed it over and held completely still when he started to pull it through her hair. "I don't have any cases today, I'll no doubt be incredibly bored whatever I do, may as well take you to get a haircut."

"Thank you," she said quietly. Sherlock worked silently and diligently to brush through her hair. There was something almost therapeutic about it; he had something to focus on and he could turn off his mind to the world around him.

"Do you have something to tie your hair back with?"

She nodded and held up a dark blue bobble. He gently pulled her hair up and through the elastic before slapping his hands on his thighs and standing up. "Come on."

* * *

Throughout the process of going to the hairdressers and getting Adalane's hair cut Sherlock stood against the wall looking down at his phone screen with a thoroughly disinterested expression on his face.

Adalane had asked the hairdresser, Jill she said her name was, for a short style. When the woman expressed sadness over having to cut off Adalane's 'lovely dark curls' the little girl replied with a serious look and a quiet, 'It's not practical.'

Jill chatted away while she cut Adalane's hair and was content with just a few hums of response. Once she had finished Adalane examined herself in the mirror.

"You know," Jill said with a wide smile on her face. "Usually I think short hair looks a bit severe on girls your age, but it really suits you, sweetie!"

"Thank you," she smiled a little in response.

Sherlock paid for the haircut and took Adalane's hand to lead her out into the street. Just before they could leave Jill smiled widely at Sherlock and slipped a small piece of paper into his pocket. Anyone other than Sherlock or Adalane probably wouldn't have noticed until later, but, of course, they both noticed immediately and correctly deduced that it was her phone number. Adalane could see that her father was itching to make a scathing comment so she smiled at Jill and practically dragged him out into the busy streets.

Sherlock looked down in amusement at the little girl. "Afraid I'd embarrass you?"

"That you'd embarrass her," she replied. "She was nice, I didn't want you to hurt her feelings."

"What makes you think I'd hurt her feelings?" he frowned at her.

"You're not exactly gentle, Dad," she muttered.

Sherlock was silent. He hailed a taxi and the two got in. They rode for the first few minutes in silence and Sherlock noticed Adalane glancing at him every few seconds. She opened her mouth to say something and he cut her off. "Don't apologise Adalane. There's no need."

"But I've clearly upset you."

"No you haven't," he said. "What you said was true. I'm not gentle."

Adalane looked down at her hands. "Just because it's true didn't make it nice."

"_Nice_," his lip curled almost in disgust. "People always try far too hard to be _nice_. They go to great lengths to make sure that they seem _nice_ in the eyes of other people. I don't have time for that. I don't bother with what others think, you shouldn't either."

Adalane bit her lip and turned her head to look out of the window.

Sherlock watched her for a few moments before speaking again. "That woman was right about one thing though, you do suit your hair like that. It's very pretty."

She turned to look at him and smirked a little. "Trying to be _nice_, Father dear?"

He rolled his eyes and she giggled. "Not nice, honest. It's an honest compliment."

She smiled a tad wider than normal. "Thank you."

When they got back to Baker Street John and Mrs Hudson both commented on how 'nice' Adalane's new haircut was and the two Holmes' shared a look.

Sherlock threw Jill's number in the bin.

* * *

Adalane wandered through to the living room at what most people would consider an ungodly hour in the morning. She had thought she would be the only one awake and she was hoping to steal one of her father's anatomy book again. Of course she could not be so lucky. When she slipped through into the kitchen she heard Sherlock talking to someone quietly, but with quite a sharp edge to his voice.

"Of course I've thought about it, Mycroft. I simply hadn't reached a decision yet."

Ah, her uncle was visiting.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be anxious to get her out of the way. And since you turned down my suggestions for a boarding school you had better come up with another option soon. Or you could let me help you."

"You can come out Adalane," she tensed when he father called out to her. "This is relevant to you, you might as well hear it."

"Is this really something you want her listening to?"

"She should have a choice in the matter," Sherlock stared icily at his brother as Adalane walked over to them and he lifted her easily into his lap. She thought he wouldn't want to display any affection for her around his brother, but the part of her brain that understood human behaviour told her that this was Sherlock's way of saying, 'See? I can be a good parent, despite what you obviously think.'

"Good morning, Adalane," Mycroft smiled that almost saccharine sweet smile, so insincere it almost made her cringe. "I trust you remember me?"

She nodded. "Morning, Uncle."

"Your father and I are just discussing where you are going to attend school. I suggested a place."

"And I will take it into consideration," Sherlock spoke through gritted teeth and played, absently, with Adalane's messy curls.

"I'm sure you will."

Adalane frowned a little when her attention was caught by the sound of high heels on the wooden stairs.

Wrong pattern to be Mrs Hudson, wrong heel height to be one of Mycroft's assistants, her father and Mycroft obviously recognised them, pattern familiar, memory roughly four years old. Conclusion; Violet Holmes was about to enter the flat.

The tall grey haired woman strode confidently into the room and Sherlock and Mycroft stood up to embrace her.

"Well, I seem to have picked a perfect time," she remarked dryly as Mycroft kissed her cheek. Violet Holmes was quite a tall woman, with neatly styled grey hair that had once been as dark as Sherlock's. Sherlock took after their mother in looks and Mycroft took after their father. Mrs Holmes was quite a tall, slim lady with defined cheekbones and piercing grey eyes. The lines around her eyes and mouth showed her age and gave her an air of wisdom with just that hint of disdain which seemed present in all members of the Holmes family. "God, the clutter in this place. You never were good at keeping tidy, Sherlock, and oh the irony in that."

Sherlock sighed, to anyone who wasn't a member of the Holmes family it would have seemed exasperated. "Not that it isn't wonderful to see you, Mummy, but why are you here?"

"You never were one for pleasantries, darling. I'm here to take Adalane shopping."

"Shopping?" Mycroft's brow furrowed.

"Claire called," Violet explained. "She said she was leaving the country and that Adalane was staying with you, she raised a concern that you would let her outgrow her clothes and not even notice."

"Good," Sherlock smiled. "You can get her a dressing gown, then perhaps she'll stop stealing mine."

"I don't steal them!" protested Adalane. "I appropriate them."

Violet shook her head with a small smile. "Too smart for your own good. Remind you boys of anyone?"

"It's ringing faint bells," Mycroft remarked sarcastically and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

* * *

Three clothes shops later, Adalane would have been practically buried under shopping bags if it wasn't for her grandmother's driver.

"I don't usually drag Mark along on shopping trips," remarked Violet as the man hefted the bags into the boot of the car. "But I thought he might be helpful today, and he doesn't mind; he's getting paid."

"Money seems to be a good incentive for just about anything," murmured Adalane and Violet practically groaned.

"Oh please, tell me your father hasn't been dragging you along on his cases. You're far too young for dead bodies."

"You're never too young for dead bodies, Grandma, and he's only had one case since I arrived," she pouted a little. "He wouldn't let me come with him."

Violet chuckled softly. "My only grandchild, and you share your father's fascination with the dead and the damned."

"It's really more how they ended up dead and damned," said Adalane. "Mum always said I was far too like my dad for my own good."

Violet found herself smiling at the slightly wicked smirk on the little girl's face as she said that. "Right, what sort of mobile phone do you want?"

"Mobile phone? Do I really need one?"

"You're a little girl, living with two bachelors in the middle of London, you definitely need a phone. For emergencies at the very least, and knowing your father there will be some," Violet rolled her eyes as she thought back to some of Sherlock's previous antics.

"You don't have to do that."

"Think of it as a late birthday present."

"You sent me twenty pounds for my birthday, you do every year," Adalane said.

"Well, then it's an un-birthday present," Violet smirked at her. "You have read that book, I imagine?"

Adalane bit her lip. "I suppose it would be a good idea."

"Good. Stop here please, Mark."

* * *

_"So, Mrs Holmes came and took you shopping today?" _

"Yes, Mum."

_"And you got plenty of clothes?" _

"Enough to last me the winter, Mummy."

_"God, you sound like your dad. Always have done I suppose, but now more than ever. He's looking after you properly?" _

"Yes. He and John and Mrs Hudson are taking good care of me."

_"John? I didn't know your father had managed to land himself a boyfriend." _

"John isn't his boyfriend, Mum. They're just flatmates. John is the first one that dad found who could put up with the crazy."

_"I've never quite been able to figure out if it's the crazy that follows Sherlock, or Sherlock that follows the crazy. And, did you say Hudson? Sherlock worked a case in America a few years ago that involved a man named Hudson, didn't he? He brought back that American doll for your birthday and you refused to go to sleep without it for almost two years. You still have her, don't you?" _

"Yes, I've got Susie in my room here at Baker Street. That case dad worked in America was about Mrs Hudson's husband. He got himself in trouble, was facing the chair, and Mrs Hudson sent dad over there to help out."

_"He got the man off death row?" _

"Ensured his place on it, apparently."

_"What? Oh, never mind. I can never hope to understand that bizarre life he leads." _

"How's Raphael? The family seems to like you."

_"How on earth can you tell? No, wait, don't answer that. His family is absolutely lovely! They're so nice and they do seem to like me. The wedding is going to be in six months, do you think your dad will want to come over for it?" _

"Probably not. And I don't think Raphael would like to meet him, somehow."

_"Yes, I suppose you're right. Sherlock does have a habit of pissing people off doesn't he? And don't repeat that word." _

"I won't, Mum."

_"You'll come over for the wedding, won't you, darling?" _

"Of course."

_"Good. Well, I will call again soon. Make sure that vaguely psychopathic idiot takes good care of you." _

"Sociopathic, Mum. There is a difference."

_"Whatever you say, Adalane. I love you! Goodbye!" _

"Love you too, Mum. Bye."


End file.
